


The Last Words of a Shooting Star

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Really yall i did this to hurt ppl, Song Lyrics, jonathan sims can sing, season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: Jon always wanted to die clean and pretty, and now its as clean as he will get.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	The Last Words of a Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I was on a Mitski binge and I wanted to create content. Heres some homemade depression!
> 
> My Socials:
> 
> Insta: tea_is_not_them  
> Tumbler: tea-is-not-them  
> Tiktok: teaisnotthem

Jon had always had a pretty singing voice, Martin thought, as he listened to it a bit more often. When Jon let his guard down, in the archives, and with Martin, he would sing something fun and upbeat. His voice was made for that, Martin thinks. He could listen to Jon talk or sing as much as he could. It made him happy to be entrusted with the voice of him. 

In the Scottish safehouse, he had hummed and tapped his foot to the beat of anything. It would carry through the small cabin, the sound of something softer than his usual songs. Martin had sat in bed and listened to his boyfriend (boyfriend! Can you believe it!) whistle and dance and sing. 

Such a small thing that Martin know knew about Jon, slowly entrapping his heart even deeper in love and endearing the soft underside of Jon’s prickly act. He enjoyed it, just as much as Jon enjoyed listening to Martin read his own poetry aloud to him, or ranting about something inane that he could think of. Because Martin had a lot of opinions, and was very good at defending them.

As lovely and endearing as they were to each other , it did not stop the horrors of the world, it had just ended them in a musical tone, as windows broke and things shattered.

\-----

He knew what was happening even as he was shaking and yelling, fighting through the blood in his vision and the terror he felt. Elias was gone, the world was being changed once again in the past however long it had been. Georgie and Melanie were going to burn this place down whenever Jon and Martin left, or a few hours after they didn't. 

Jon looked beautiful as he saved the world, Martin thought. He had thought that even in a terrifying green glow he could look at the person he loved dearly, that he could still watch. And maybe that was why the Eye was fond of him. Though that beauty came with a price. 

The messiah of a broken world unspun like an ill wound string, as the fears where shoved through cracks and crevices, people getting things given back to them, things crumbling and changing, people freed and those who died were lost forever.

Martin scrambled to the place that Jon dropped, his body a thud barely loud enough to register over the ringing in Martin’s ears as blood rushed like a river. Adrenaline fueled pride was washed away as Martin kneeled by Jon, pulling the other into his arms and frantically checking him for injuries. 

Jon looked bad, after the unearthly ethereal light of saving the world left, the glow of leftover worldly horrors drained from his cheeks leaving him ashen and tired looking. Blood was flowing over his cheeks and from his hairline. Martin tried fervently to wipe it away, to help the one he loved, and yet he couldn't. 

Said bleeding and tired man looked up to Martin and smiled, soft and proud and so so in love. They had done it together, but Jon had bitten the last bullet. 

“It’ll be ok Martin.” He said in his low voice, made lower by the rapid knowledge that he was dying. How fitting, he thought. The end of a story, the finale of his life, their tale of interwoven woe dwindling, flowing out of the very human form of Jonathan Sims.

Martin shook his head, angry and sad tears coming to his eyes, “No, you can’t die Jon. You saved the world, don’t you deserve some peace, don’t we deserve peace together?”

Jon’s smile turned sadder still, and he lifted a hand to wipe an errant tear away, “It’s not about deserve in this world Martin.”

“No… it really isn't. Is it.” Martin says, the question more of a statement, he could hope so much, but hope was dead, just like the fears. Hidden away by the horror he felt, draped by a thick coat of knowledge. 

A lullaby would be fitting, someone thought.

A warbles lyric spilled from Jon’s mouth, “All of this turbulence wasn’t forecasted , apologies on the intercom. And I am relieve I left my room tidy. They'll think of me kindly, when they come for my things.” Jon sings on, and martin is almost taken aback, but they both knew that Jon was a drama queen. 

“Jon.” Martin breaths almost in admonishment but it is too tinged with fondness and love to actually be a warning or a telling off.

He skips a few lines of lyrics, the last embers of the Eye leaving his knowledge scattered even of songs he likes, “You wouldn't leave till we loved in the morning, you’d learned from movies how love ought to be.”

Martin moves Jon’s hair out of his face, and Jon again skips like a scratched record.

“I always wanted to die clean and pretty.”

It almost made Martin laugh, as he puts together how fitting this song is to his grief, “This isn't clean Jon.”

“Isn’t it though? The world is going to be ok. You’ll be ok, everything will be better, we fixed it. And isn’t that clean?”

Martin took a shaky breath, “No it’s not. Not without you Jon.”

But it is, Jon thinks he is but a stain, as he stares up at the prettiest thing he will ever see, the one he loved. 

“I always wants to die clean and pretty, but I’d be too busy on working days.” He sings, even as his vision clouds leaving him like a fast rate stigmatism, his voice was always beautiful, and Martin think’s it still is, even now. How poetic he thinks, and maybe Jon thinks so too, maybe that was why he was singing a lullaby to his own end.

“So I am relieved that the turbulence wasn’t forecasted, so i couldn’t have changed anyways.” Jon thinks of how correct that lyric feels. If he had know he would have changed, but he couldn't have, and this was the best ending he could have ever hoped for. At least he can make the moment hurt less, or maybe he was making it worse. 

Did it matter?

Martin wipes the blood and tears off his face, still listening even though it hurt to. If Jon wanted to sing until his last, Martin wouldn’t begrudge him that, would be an audience that could not look away, could not deafen himself. Songs as vicious as grifter’s bone to his heart. 

Jon looks up again, and he takes in the only thing that stayed good in his life, his hand in Martin’s own, “I love you Martin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” The sincerity is what gets Jon in the end.

He feels himself shaking, with blood loss, he feels Martin shaking with grief, and he remembers the song once more.

“I am relieved that I left my room tidy…” The final lyric wasn’t said. He couldn’t even if he wanted too. His last goodbye was silent, as the last of his breath left, and his hand went limp in Martin’s.

Martin stares down at him and finally cries, feeling cold and horrible, holding the last embers of the one he loves. 

“Goodbye...”


End file.
